Boys, Girls and Blackouts
by Sara Jaye
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night, and neither of them wanted to be there. A bit of S1 Cory/Topanga ship tease and fluff.


Yeah, I already wrote something like this but it's one of my favorite Cory/Topanga scenarios for S1. And Mr. Feeny's in this one

Also I may have bullshitted some of Topanga's explanation of death spirits. . Wikipedia can only help so much.

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night, and Topanga was ill at ease. Not only was it a dark and stormy night, but it was too dangerous for her parents to come and pick her up from her art club meeting. She wondered if they and Nebula were safe at home, if they at least still had light and water and heat.

Worse still, her company for the moment was hardly pleasant. It wasn't that she detested Cory Matthews, far from it, but his coping mechanism was to complain. And even though Topanga couldn't claim she wasn't feeling what he was right now, hearing him voice it every five minutes wasn't helping her mood.

"Everyone else's parents picked them up. Why not me?" Cory muttered from his place on the floor next to her. Topanga sighed, narrowing her eyes at him in the dimly-lit room.

"Jebediah and Chloe can't come get me, either. Stop complaining and try to focus on the positive. Your aura is a bright angry red right now, and it's very distracting."

"Maybe my aura's waiting for your aura to shut up," Cory retorted.

"Cory-"

"Mr. Matthews, Miss Lawrence, I'm very sorry about all of this. If I could dig my car out of the mud and bring you home safely right now, I would." Topanga tried to smile. At least Mr. Feeny was here.

"Who needs your lame Gremlin? I'll tunnel my way out of here," Cory announced. "Anyone got a shovel or a really big spoon?"

"Yes, Mr. Matthews, it's entirely possible to dig through a tile floor with a _spoon_." Mr. Feeny rolled his eyes. "Would you like to borrow a power drill from the shop room, perhaps? Or some dynamite?" Cory grinned.

"We have dynamite?! Cool!"

"Sarcasm is sadly lost on some people." Topanga shook her head. "Cory, we're stuck here until the storm lets up, so we might as well-"

"No. Making the best of this is the wussy way out. I'm a man! I'm gonna get us outta here or die trying!" He paused. "If I die, tell Shawn he can have all my comics and baseball stuff and my allowance for the next seven years."

"Cory!" Topanga scolded. "Don't talk so lightly about death. There could be dullahans here just waiting to spirit us away if we're not careful."

"Dulla-what?" Cory blinked. Oh, right. Cory's understanding of Irish mythology was as good as Stuart Minkus's skill in bombardment. That is to say it was nonexistent.

"Miss Lawrence is referring to Ireland's concept of the personification of death," Mr. Feeny explained. "A different version of the grim reaper, if you will."

"Then why doesn't she just say the grim reaper?"

"Because the grim reaper is only a concept. He exists in many different forms," Topanga said. "Death is a formless aspect of life, so many cultures give him different appearances and stories both to make him seem mystical, and to comfort themselves in a way. It provides a sort of answer to where they go at the end of their lives, and who's taking them there."

"...you need a life. And I need a video game break." Cory dug in his backpack, then hit his head with the palm of his hand. "Oh, right, I left it with Shawn this morning." He shrugged. "Time to hit the computer room, then!"

"Mr. Matthews-"

"Oh, right. No power." Cory groaned. "This is the worst night ever! I'm going to sleep!" He laid down on the floor next to the blackboard, closed his eyes, and stopped listening to anything.

"Cory..." The moment he tuned her out, Topanga knew this night was a lost cause. Again. Anytime she tried to open people's minds to other cultures and alternate ideas seldom ended well, but with Cory it was always a disaster. Again, she wondered if he was just too dense to understand anything outside his little world, or if he was just being insensitive.

Maybe it was a combination of the two.

"Miss Lawrence, I'm sure he's not doing this out of malice," Mr. Feeny said, as if he'd read her mind. "Mr. Matthews is immature, like most boys his age. And sadly, in this day and age, many children and adults are on his maturity level when it comes to thinking outside the boxes they know and love."

"Is he, though?" Topanga asked. "Because I remember, not too long ago, he proved to me he could be so much more. Without his help, we never would have saved Mrs. Rosemeade's job. His intelligence may only be average, but his depth was enough to help us understand where we'd gone wrong in our endeavor. He helped us understand the concept of reaching one's audience." She sighed. "I thought after that, he and I would have grown closer...not reaching the same level, but somewhere closer to each other's."

"I've can relate all too well," Mr. Feeny said. "That time he got his first and only A in geography, I thought I'd finally made him appreciate his studies more. But after he lost the prize he truly wanted, he lost all interest."

"I just wish I knew what to expect from him. He's...unpredictable. Like the wind," Topanga said. "One minute he's an immature buffoon, the next he displays a wisdom I never imagined him capable of." She folded her hands in her lap and looked down. "Why do boys have to be so difficult?"

"If it helps, I'm sure he's just as confounded by you, Miss Lawrence. Perhaps even more so." Mr. Feeny smiled a little. "He probably just doesn't know how to feel about such an enlightened, intelligent young woman like you reaching out to him." For some reason, this made Topanga's heart skip a beat and her cheeks grow warm.

"You really think so?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." He patted her shoulder. "Keep trying, Miss Lawrence. You'll get through to him sooner or later...I hope."

"And I hope the same for you too, Mr. Feeny." Topanga yawned. "But for now, maybe I should follow his lead and get some rest. It's getting pretty late." She staked out a corner across the room from Cory and laid her head against her bookbag. It wasn't the most comfortable pillow, but for now it would do.

"Mm. Pleasant dreams, Miss Lawrence," Mr. Feeny said, and sat down at his desk. For a while, she watched him try to read using a flashlight and listened to Cory's snoring before sleep finally claimed her.

-x-

She didn't know how long she'd slept, but when she woke up it was pitch black and she had to use the bathroom. She grabbed her backpack, took one of the flashlights from the desk and navigated her way through the halls until she found the thankfully unlocked girls' bathroom.

She tried to be quick, not wanting to be alone in the dark for too long; thankfully, the water still worked so she washed her hands and ran a wet finger across her teeth, vowing to brush and floss extra hard as soon as she was home.

Unfortunately, as uneventful as the trek to the bathroom had been, the trek back seemed like she was walking across a battleground. The flashlight was running out of battery power, and at this time of night you could hear every little noise; as much as she tried to ignore them, a low _creak_ finally got the best of her and she ran into the nearest unlocked room she could find. She sat down in a corner and hugged her knees, shivering, praying that whoever was out there would-

"Topanga?"

She screamed. Someone else screamed. She calmed down first, and found herself staring into the terrified face of one Cory Matthews. Relief flooded her; she'd never thought she'd be so happy to see him, especially after she'd been so frustrated with him earlier.

"Cory," she finally said. "What are you doing here?"

"I woke up and I got hungry," Cory said. "But I guess I got lost, since I don't see the candy machines in here. Where are we, anyway?" Topanga pointed the flashlight at the wall closest to them.

"The library," she said. Cory groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Great, like tonight couldn't get any worse!"

"Don't worry, I won't make you read anything," Topanga said, a bit more bitterly than she'd intended. "It's too dark for that anyway."

"Um...Topanga?" He shuffled his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He almost looked guilty...Topanga didn't want to let her guard down, but Cory was pretty bad at faking. "Worst liar ever," Shawn once called him.

"Yes, Cory?"

"...sorry about earlier," he muttered. "I mean, you're weird and all but I didn't mean to be such a jerk. I'm glad you're okay." Topanga gasped. _What?_

"Cory...were you actually _worried_ about me?"

"What?! No, I wasn't, why would I...I mean, just because I woke up and you weren't in the room with me and Feeny, and..." He sat down next to her with an annoyed grunt. "Why do girls always have to make such a big deal out of everything?"

"Because boys can't just admit they care about girls." Topanga smiled. "It's okay, Cory, your secret is safe with me."

"No secret!" Cory made a large X-motion with his arms. "Secrets, Cory, no. Absolutely not. There are no secrets!"

"If you say so." Topanga moved a little closer to him. "Are you still hungry?"

"Starving. You wouldn't happen to have a pizza and some cheese fries in there, would you?" Cory asked. "Oh, right, you eat that health junk. Well, I guess sprout salad and brown rice sandwiches won't be the worst thing ever just this once."

"Actually..." She reached into her pack and pulled out a paper bag. "I've got something you might enjoy!" She opened the bag, revealing a selection of hard, gummy and chocolate candies mixed with a variety of nuts. Cory's eyes widened.

"Woah! Is this stuff for real? I mean, how did you get it past your mom and dad?" Topanga rolled her eyes.

"We _do_ eat things other than sprouts and tofu, Cory. This is from Jebediah and Chloe's favorite old-fashioned penny candy shop," she explained. "The candy doesn't actually cost a penny, but it's very inexpensive compared to the average shop's prices."

"So what, you got this whole bag for two bucks or something?"

"Two-fifty, actually." Topanga held out the bag. "Help yourself!"

"Thanks!" And then their hands both reached into the bag, brushed against one another, and Topanga's cheeks felt warm once again. He was being civil to her, he'd accepted her offering...granted, any boy would be happy for junk food, but she'd expected some sort of comment about how he'd seen this stuff in his grandma's house.

Was this another one of those moments he'd later forget all about? Probably, all they were doing was sitting in the dark, munching on candy and nuts, occasionally staring at each other. The next day, she'd just be "the weird girl" to him again, and he'd drive her insane with his immaturity.

"Hey...Topanga?"

"Hm?" She swallowed the gummy star she'd been chewing.

"...I'm glad you're here. I mean, whenever I pictured this kinda thing it was me and Shawn sneaking around the halls playing book hockey and hunting for ghosts, but...you being here is better than being alone." She saw his cheeks go red, even in the dark. "B-but it's not like we're best buddies now or something!" Typical Cory, she thought. But he was smiling, and his hand was only inches from her own.

"...I'm glad you're here, too, Cory," she finally said. Their fingers touched, and this time he didn't pull his hand away.


End file.
